


The Kid is Alright

by Blue M Hart (ThePreciousHeart)



Category: Wayne's World (1992)
Genre: But only a little, Found Families, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Orphans, Reminiscing, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Teen Angst, Toast, Twenty Years Later, Unofficial Sequel, as in the act not the food, darker and edgier, inspired by a previous work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePreciousHeart/pseuds/Blue%20M%20Hart
Summary: A couple weeks after Wayne Campbell's funeral, Garth Algar sits down with some old friends who knew him well, and introduces them to Wayne's son.Sequel to Elfwreck's "Didn't Mean to Make You Cry."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Kid is Alright

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Didn't Mean to Make You Cry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2816093) by [Elfwreck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfwreck/pseuds/Elfwreck). 



> Thanks to Elfwreck for writing such a delightful and engaging story that I felt the need to expand on it, and for allowing me to pursue my inspiration!

Garth received the email a week after Wayne Campbell’s funeral. He’d been on the verge of deleting it, considering the subject line merely read “Hey! :),” before he realized that he recognized the name of the sender. _Surely it’s not THAT Neil Hunter?_ But opening the email shattered his disbelief.

_Hey, Garth! Been a while, huh? I was out of town these past few months and I just heard the news about Wayne. What a tragedy. I mean, he died doing what he loved, but still..._

_Alan Black and I have been talking– he’s got a wife and a kid on the way, isn’t that something? Anyway, we were thinking of getting together and maybe doing something in honor of Wayne. Maybe we could grab drinks at that Tiki lounge he loved, if they’re still around. Alan’s working on reaching out to Terry, too. I figured we should invite you and make it a real_ Wayne’s World _reunion. Let me know how you’re doing these days and if you’re still in the area. There’s so much to catch up on!_

_Looking forward to hearing from you!_

_Neil_

Garth had to read the words a few times before they fully sunk in. God, he hadn’t seen Neil in… how many years? Not since the early 2000’s, when he’d gone mental over a woman who came into town for a festival and decided his time was best spent chasing her down. Alan he’d seen even less recently, not after he’d decided to enroll in college against all odds. As for Terry… they’d tried to keep in touch once the show ended, but over time the letters and Christmas cards grew less frequent from both parties, until they’d stopped altogether. At the time it hadn’t been too big of a deal, because Garth still had Wayne and his job, but now that he’d lost Wayne, it was hard not to look back and contemplate the benefits of sticking together. Even though he’d never been as close with the other guys as he’d been with Wayne.

They hadn’t been invited to the funeral. Garth understood why, since Wayne’s family were a bunch of words he’d never use in a professional setting, and they hadn’t cared much for the company Wayne kept. Or maybe it was simply that they were too scattered, too spread out, and probably wouldn’t have been able to make it had they been invited. Still, just because Garth _understood_ it didn’t mean he had to _like_ it. Wayne had been nearly as bad about keeping in touch with the old crew as Garth was, and yet Garth was sure he’d have found the time of day for any of them, right up to his death.

_Sure, a reunion sounds great,_ he emailed Neil back, and within minutes, a date was set. As it turned out, they were in luck. Though Terry had settled down in California years ago, he happened to be coming to town in a week to visit his parents, and didn’t mind taking a moment to reconnect and toast his fallen friend. Alan was based in Chicago, but his wife gave him full permission to drive down to Aurora for a day while she and her mother were busy writing invitations to her baby shower. And despite Neil’s many travels, his hometown had always welcomed him with open arms. That only left the venue to choose, since the Tiki lounge had shut down years ago and the Gasworks was dead (Garth and Wayne had mourned its passing with a candlelit vigil), and Comrade’s had fallen out of favor and even Stan Mikita’s Donuts was on the verge of becoming a regular Krispy Kreme. Finally Garth suggested the bar a few blocks from the apartment at the doll factory that he and Wayne had shared, which they’d regularly passed on their way to and from the various parties they’d attended back in the day. It had always been a little too bougie for his tastes, but at least it was something he recognized. Something he _remembered._ And the alcohol was a plus.

Neil suggested swinging by the mechanic’s on his way to the bar and picking up Phil, who as far as anyone knew was still working the same job he’d held since 1990, but Garth vetoed the idea. It felt more fitting to _keep things in the family,_ so to speak– meaning those who’d worked on _Wayne’s World._ The thought of inviting Wayne’s actual family didn’t cross his mind, until he happened to mention the upcoming get-together to Rad. He’d been spending a lot of time with Wayne’s son lately, which he assumed was how Wayne would have wanted it. Or at least what Wayne had told him when he’d visited Garth in a dream. Once Garth had mentioned that he was going to see “some old friends of your dad’s,” Rad’s face lit up.

“Could I… do you think they’d mind if I came too?” Though he held himself still, he looked as if he were seconds away from jumping out of his seat, a feeling that Garth knew only too well. He had to admit that Rad had loosened up considerably since the day they’d met. Hopefully Garth’s positive influence, if it could be called that, was rubbing off on him.

“I guess not,” he said, since he didn’t remember Neil, Alan, or Terry being the judging type, but just in case he figured he’d better call Neil and inform him of the unexpected guest. Fortunately, Neil seemed just as excited to meet Rad as Rad was to meet him, and didn’t ask what Garth was doing hanging around with Wayne’s kid. Garth was grateful that he didn’t have to explain the responsibility that Wayne’s spirit had thrust upon him. Ever since the ethereal visitation, he’d gained a brand-new appreciation for what Wayne had gone through in trying to pull Waynestock together, with nothing but the word of Jim Morrison to go on.

Though Terry and Alan had to travel to make it to the reunion, both were already sitting by the window with Neil when Garth and Rad walked into the bar. Immediately Neil sprang up, a huge smile on his face and his arms outstretched. A rush of flustered warmth raced through Garth at the sight. Neil’s skinny frame had filled out, and he looked fresher about the face, as if he were no longer living between cups of coffee, but his hair was still long and his eyes were as bright as ever.

“Garth!” Neil came over and gave Garth a high five, exactly the way he’d always used to after Garth had told him he wasn’t comfortable with handshakes and somewhat particular about hugs. “My God. You haven’t changed!” He turned his attention to Rad, unable to control his fascination. “So you’re the little man?”

“And you must be the big man,” Rad said calmly, holding out his hand. Neil gave an approving nod, before returning the handshake.

“I’m Neil. I used to work with your dad on his public access show.” Neil nodded towards the table. “Well, we all did. Come on, have a seat and we’ll fill you in.”

Obediently, Garth and Rad settled down, facing Alan and Terry across the table, while Neil pulled up a chair at the end. The friendly faces staring back at Garth momentarily overwhelmed him. Here they were, the entire gang, as if none of them had ever grown up and gotten jobs and left Aurora– Neil Hunter, with his crooked grin and leather jacket; Alan Black, hair short and slicked back, band logo fading on his sleeveless T-shirt; and Terry Ward, a familiar faraway look in his eyes and his skin toned and tanned. They all looked the same, but different all at once, and Garth found himself wondering if the feeling was mutual.

Once everyone had gotten their drink orders in (beers for Garth and Alan, a Mai Tai, “one of Wayne’s favorites,” for Neil, hard lemonade for Terry, who wasn’t a big drinker, and a Shirley Temple for Rad), the first few minutes were spent with the customary catch-up. The woman Neil had been chasing all those years ago, Debra somebody, had ended up spurning him, but Neil hadn’t taken it too badly. “Without her,” he said as he folded his arms across the table, “I never would have realized there’s a world outside of Aurora.” When Neil had spoken to Garth on the phone (briefly, as he’d clearly remembered another one of Garth’s teenage anxieties), he’d mentioned that he’d been away on “a cross-country odyssey _a la_ Kerouac,” but Garth didn’t realize until he caught a glimpse inside Neil’s wallet that Neil’s profession translated to “truck driver.” On the contrast, it took him no time at all to figure out that when Terry described himself as a “supplier to a wellness dispensary,” what he really meant was “weed farmer.” He and his partner (“in business and in life,” Terry explained as he pulled out his phone to share photos) had purchased a few large greenhouses in Mendocino just a couple years back, and already business was thriving. Alan was the only one in the group who’d started a family, and the only one besides Garth with a desk job. After spending two years at Aurora University’s business school, he’d transferred over to Chicago State University, where he completed his degree, contemplated a master’s but ultimately didn’t follow through, and met his future, now current, wife. Their baby girl was expected to arrive early November, though Alan confessed he was secretly hoping for a Halloween birthday.

None of the guys were too surprised to hear Garth recount his career trajectory– a few community college courses, an internship so brief it could hardly be called one, a positive response from the first position for which he’d applied. If there was one thing Garth had to his name, even back in the 90’s, it had been his technical prowess. He’d always figured that if he hadn’t been so loyal to Wayne, and Wayne hadn’t begged him to be his _Wayne’s World_ co-host, he probably would have ended up on the crew, and someone like Terry would have been sitting on the couch. What interested his old friends more than Garth’s life story was Rad’s mere presence on the other side of the table. Neil apparently still had pictures of him as a child– the same pictures Garth had once received from Wayne– but Alan hadn’t heard anything from the old crew in years and Terry claimed he’d forgotten Wayne had a son, if Wayne had ever told him in the first place. As three pairs of eyes latched onto Rad, Garth felt an uncharacteristic sense of protectiveness. He knew he had nothing to worry about, since the worst the guys could do was embarrass Rad, but he still felt it was vitally important that Rad make a decent first impression.

“It’s like stepping back in time,” Alan announced, once he’d fully absorbed Rad’s physical resemblances to Wayne. “If you take after your old man in wit as much as you do in looks, I predict a bright future ahead.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rad mumbled. “I didn’t know him all that well.”

Alan raised his eyebrows. “You’ve heard about _Wayne’s World,_ right?”

“Um… I guess.” Rad scratched his head. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Damn.” Alan rubbed his forehead, glancing around the table. “Whatever happened to those tapes we had made?”

“I thought _you_ had them,” Terry said.

Neil sighed, and Garth shrugged. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t visited Channel Ten within the past couple years, on the slim chance that the show had been preserved. He and Wayne had used to be so obsessive about documenting each episode, labeling each tape and boxing them up in Wayne’s basement, but somewhere between Wayne moving out and the transition from analog to digital, the tapes had gotten lost in the shuffle. Channel Ten had expressed condolences, but their archives were a sorry sight, meaning it could take years for a _Wayne’s World_ episode to resurface.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter,” Alan said, though there was a forlorn note in his voice. “We might not have the episodes, but we’ll always have the memories.”

“Yeah, but Rad doesn’t have the memories," Terry said. "I bet you don't even know about the time the police almost shut us down for playing adult videos, do you?” Rad shook his head.

“Oh yeah, the Madonna video?” Alan laughed. “Just goes to show how long ago _that_ was. We got busted at Garth’s house, too. Nearly got him grounded for months.”

“That was one of the few times we did the show somewhere other than the basement,” Neil said. He rested his chin on his balled-up fists. “There was the cemetery, and the amusement park—”

“And Benjamin,” Garth added.

“Don’t even mention him,” Alan groaned. “That one never counted. _God,_ was that man a… a piece of work.”

“It’s okay,” Rad said. “You can say _dickweed_. I’ve been to middle school.”

A hearty laugh went up around the table, and Garth found himself joining in. It was the first time he could remember laughing that week, and he was pretty sure Rad had caused every previous instance. He imagined Rad would have fit in well with the crew back in the old days, although of course Wayne had been alive then, and Rad wasn’t even a twinkle in Jennifer’s eye, so the circumstances of their meeting would have to be some sort of time paradox.

Reminiscing on past _Wayne’s World_ incidents quickly devolved into what Garth could only describe as The Gospel of Campbell. He was surprised, and yet not at all surprised, at how many stories there were, and how easy it was to tell them. He hadn’t spoken much about Wayne since the funeral, because the people he saw most of all were his coworkers, and it was more than a little awkward to suddenly mention _oh yeah, that guy you might have heard about on the news, the sushi-and-surfing party guy, well he was my best friend since we were kids and we used to do this show together and now I miss him._ Even around Rad he’d mostly stayed silent, ‘cause Rad hadn’t _really_ known Wayne and he already had enough to deal with in the form of two dead parents and a family who didn’t want him, without having to worry about whether he lived up to the memories of some old friend of his father’s. However, Neil and Alan and Terry shared those memories, and the more they talked, the more Garth realized how badly he'd needed this. It felt good to be around people who understood what life had been like back then, even though the circumstances that had brought them together were grim.

“So the ladder falls, and we’re trapped in the bedroom. Wayne’s half naked, I’m clinging to the bat for dear life, and Garth’s still, uh– indisposed, as it were.”

“More like faded,” Garth interjected. Just to ensure the clarity of his meaning, he added, “Totally baked. _Stoned_.”

“Nah, more like hyperventilating in the corner swearing up and down you’ll knock out the first person who touches you.” Terry’s eyes glittered brightly from across the table.

Garth gestured outward. “In other words... _stoned_.” As far as he was concerned, anyway. He’d never really understood how Terry or Wayne could light up a joint to “mellow out.” They’d often encouraged him to try it, but it never had the desired effect.

“Just setting the scene.” Terry returned his focus to Rad, Alan, and Neil’s rapt faces. “Anyway, the backpack’s still on the floor but it’s unzipped, right? And before we can figure out a place to hide, the door swings open, and _bam!_ It’s Sandra’s brother! And boy, is _he_ a sight for sore eyes. One look at us, and he’s foaming at the mouth. Then he sees what we’ve packed into the backpack, and man.” Terry leaned back in his seat, chuckling, his eyes glazing as he recalled the legendary incident. “He wasn’t very happy, all’s I can say.”

“So what happened?” Rad was at the edge of his seat, his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. Garth wondered if he was so enraptured because he’d never heard this story, or if he was imagining what he had to look forward to upon starting high school. “Did you get in a fight?”

“Fighting wasn’t Wayne’s style,” Terry explained with the sagacity of a disciple imparting his savior’s words to the masses. “I mean, I was ready to use that bat on the big lug nut, but your dad had other ideas. He goes up to the guy, holds out his hands like he’s going to surrender, and I sh— uh, I kid you not, he starts _bargaining_.”

“What?” Rad said, while Garth began to crack up, reliving the moment. He hadn’t really been of sound mind to judge what Wayne was doing at the time, thanks to the pot-induced paranoia, but it was hysterical to look back on.

“Yeah. Your dad actually starts pulling the uh, stuff out of the backpack and he’s going, ‘Look, how about I leave everything behind but the lace ones and a bra? Just so she has something to wear for the next few days, and we’ve got something to show for ourselves…’ I remember he was very insistent on keeping that bra, and Sandra’s brother just kept going ‘no, no, no.’ But we finally managed to knock it down to three, one for each of us. Wayne got the lace, of course, and Garth and I walked out of there with two thongs in our back pockets. And _that’s_ how we fared in the Great Panty Raid of ’88.”

“Well, it wasn’t really a panty raid at first,” Garth said, insistent on specifications. “It just kind of turned out that way.”

“Thanks to Wayne,” Terry said.

“Thanks to _you_.”

“And of course I was halfway across town moaning in pain while all this was happening,” Neil said. “Of all the times to schedule a wisdom tooth removal, it had to be on the day of Sandra's slumber party.”

“Man, what happened to Sandra?” Alan mused. “Last time I saw her she was going with Milton.”

“Married, three kids, summer home in Florida last I heard,” Neil replied promptly. “Milton got out, I think. Moved to the Midwest. He got thin, she got fat.”

“Only where it counts, I hope,” Rad said.

Terry nearly spit his drink. “ _Jesus,_ this kid! Didn’t your mom ever teach you not to talk about women that way?”

“Who are you kidding,” Neil muttered, “you’d have said the same thing at his age. Hell, you said the same thing _yesterday._ ”

“Just ‘cause we said it doesn’t mean we _should_ have,” Garth said, in what he hoped was an appropriately authoritative tone. Truly, he’d never thought much about the way they treated women back then– they were chicks and babes and some of them showed the guys a good time and some of them didn’t, and it was all okay– but he figured he should set a good example for Rad to follow. Every comment Rad had made during their conversation seemed like he was trying really hard to impress the guys, and Garth wanted to let him know that wasn’t the only way to live. That was the first thing he’d learned about being a teenager. It was okay to be part of a crowd, as long as they were the _right_ crowd, one that wouldn’t force you to change who you are.

“My mom didn’t teach me much to begin with,” Rad said. “I mean, sometimes I had to help _her_ with her night classes. But it’s okay.” He shrugged. “Aside from an addiction to cable TV and an unusual willingness to do housework, I think I turned out fine.”

_“More_ than fine,” Garth encouraged, while Alan nodded and Neil gave Rad a friendly nudge. “Hey, no shame there. If I had a dollar for every hour of MTV I watched before their programming went down the gutter, I’d have three mansions in the Hollywood Hills by now.”

“And if I had a dollar for every time I helped my mom out around the house,” Terry began, “…wait, never mind.”

Garth chuckled and took a sip from his beer. He couldn’t believe how well Rad was hitting it off with his old friends. He was as much a part of the crew as Wayne had been, except Rad wasn’t Wayne and was also too young to consider these guys his best friends. But Garth felt content nonetheless. He wondered if he should confess the dream he’d had about Wayne, to ask if maybe Neil and Alan and Terry had had the same dream and that’s why they were all here, because everything happened for a reason. But he balked at the thought of receiving the usual _“you’ve gone mental!”_ responses.

As the conversation hit a lull, the song playing faintly on the speakers overhead caught Garth’s ear. The voice sounded achingly familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on _why_ until its catchy chorus hit– _“he’s a lost cause, baby, better knock him flat–”_ and a rush of nostalgia seized Garth.

“Hey, check it out,” Terry murmured, his eyes angled upwards, apparently having caught on at the same time Garth did. “Good ol’ Cassie.”

Neil smirked. “Imagine where Wayne ’d be now if he’d managed to lock that one down.” 

“Probably still helping to carry her amp around,” Terry offered. “Running the merch table. Playing second fiddle.”

“Wait,” Rad blurted, his eyes huge. “My dad knew Cassandra Wong?”

“He knew her, all right,” Neil said. “Strictly in the biblical sense.”

Garth felt like kicking Neil under the table, just like he had years ago when they’d gone to Mikita’s and Neil had said something unsavory about the pretty woman who worked behind the counter, but he’d have to reach across Rad to do so and it just wasn’t worth it. At least Rad didn’t seem to be bothered by the comment, merely impressed. “Whoa. Wonder why _that_ didn’t work out.”

The other guys shrugged, while Garth held his tongue. As far as he’d understood it, Cassandra was looking for commitment, and once she’d realized that Wayne had no intentions of settling down, she’d moved on. That seemed to have been the effect Wayne had on most women, come to think of it. Of course, Garth still wasn’t entirely clear on the details, because Wayne had been going through it at the same time as Waynestock and Garth’s head had been full of logistical plotting, womanly woes, and nightmares of Del Preston popping out of nowhere with a machine gun in one hand and a pair of Garth’s shoes in the other. That had been one of the weirdest days of his life, by far. Second only to when he’d found out Wayne had died.

“Who was it after Cassandra?” Alan said thoughtfully. “Was it Kimberly?”

“Yeah, Kimmy.” Neil shook his head in awe. “Man, that chick could sing! And then…?” He turned to Garth, as if Garth had a full list of all of Wayne’s girlfriends in his head. Garth supposed that he had a better idea than anyone else, since it was to their apartment Wayne had brought them, before he’d decided to seriously pursue the roadie thing and left Garth alone. But it wasn’t like he’d ever kept track.

“I don’t know. That was before he went on tour the first time. He came back with that tattoo artist with the purple hair.”

“Oh, right,” Terry said, “the one who gave me this.” He rolled up his jacket sleeve to reveal the image of a broken heart being held together by an arrow on the underside of his arm. Everyone at the table admired it for a minute.

“Was it Katie after that, and then Jennifer?” Neil said. Rad perked up at the mention of his mother’s name.

“No, I think it was Katie, then Terri– no relation– then, I don’t know, didn’t he go out with Phil’s sister for like, a week? And then came Jennifer.” Terry leaned back, folding his arms across his chest with an air of finality.

“Nah, he didn't date Terri,” Neil argued. “And Phil didn’t even _have_ a sister. That was his ex, you just thought they were related because they looked so much alike.”

“Oh God, no way,” Terry cringed. Garth waited for someone to say _way,_ but no one did. “Anyway. It doesn’t really matter, because Jenn’s the one he got stuck with. For better or worse.” He cast a glance at Rad, and the look in Rad’s eyes made Garth’s stomach shrivel slightly. He suddenly wished Cassandra’s song hadn’t come on and they’d never gotten on the topic of Wayne’s exes.

“Yeah, Jenn was nice,” Neil said. “Katie, though, she had to be the best of the bunch. I mean, besides Cassie, but no one could ever top _that.”_

“Neil,” Garth said, in what he hoped was an urgent tone.

“I just could never figure out why he went for Jennifer after Katie,” Neil went on, oblivious to the friction building in the air beside him. “I get that it’s lonely on the road, and she _was_ pretty attractive but nothing spectacular, and it just seemed cold, kicking Katie to the curb like that.”

_“Neil.”_

“And then Jenn had to go and repay Wayne by screwing that guitarist—”

_“Shut up.”_ The entire table was startled as Rad shot to his feet, his brow furrowed and his hands forming shaky fists. “I get it, okay? You think my dad could’ve done better than my mom, and if I hadn’t been born they’d both still be here.”

“What?” Terry sputtered. “No. No! Your mom was alright, Rad. I…” He glanced helplessly at Neil, who was staring at Rad in shock as if no one had ever called him on his bullshit before. From the way he’d been talking, Garth figured no one ever had. He glanced from face to face, entirely unsure of what to do, as a red flush spread across Rad’s cheeks, and his eyes widened in a classic _what have I done_ expression. Alan, the only non-participant in the prior conversation, was watching Neil, looking as if he were trying not to punch him.

“Rad—” Garth started to say, though he wasn’t sure how he was going to finish his sentence. Rad solved the problem by turning and walking away from the table.

_Oh, God._ Garth fought the urge to slouch down in his seat, his mind racing and his breathing growing heavy. How was he supposed to… Rad had just _walked off,_ he knew he shouldn’t have brought him along to the reunion, hell he shouldn’t be bringing Rad _anywhere,_ he’d tried to do it for Wayne but he clearly wasn’t equipped to handle incidents like this and maybe he was crazy anyway, maybe that dream he’d had meant nothing and Wayne had picked the wrong person to keep an eye on his son…

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The question shook Garth to alertness, though the person who’d asked it, Alan, was addressing Neil, not him. Neil looked vaguely lost, his jaw hanging slightly open as he struggled to summon words. Garth would have laughed seeing him trying to speak, since he was usually the one who had that problem, but in this instance it wasn’t very funny.

At once he knew why Wayne had chosen him to visit after death. Alan, as responsible as he might have been, already had a family to keep an eye on, and Terry lived too far away to be of any help, not to mention he’d always seemed the type of person who’d rather have a cat than a kid. As for Neil, he wasn’t the right fit for a guardian, unless Rad wanted another Wayne in his life– or more accurately, hardly in his life at all. The responsibility fell on Garth’s shoulders, and as terrified as he was of screwing up, he needed to accept Wayne's trust in him. And he needed to accept his duty to go talk to Rad, because that was what guardians did. They looked out for others. They didn’t ignore them.

“Excuse me,” Garth said, getting up from the table. “I’m gonna…” He fell silent, because anybody could figure out what he was going to do. He took one step away from the table, before a thought occurred to him, causing him to turn back and look at Neil. It felt weird to call him out, because he'd never called out any of the guys before, but at the same time he had to get his two cents in.

“Hey, Neil? Wayne’s not the only parent Rad lost.”

Immediately he headed for the front door out of which he’d seen Rad make his exit. Once he’d pushed his way through and stepped out onto the sidewalk, he spotted Rad, standing a few feet away under the awning with his arms crossed.

“Hey.” Garth approached Rad with the caution of an animal rescuer approaching a creature they’d just tranquilized. Rad didn’t look at him, which was… whatever. Garth stepped closer, until the two were standing side by side, gazing out into the busy street.

“D’you want to go back inside?” Garth asked in what he hoped wasn’t too abrupt a manner. “I know Neil can be an ass, but uh, the guys really like you, and—”

“Why?” Rad said. “Why would I want to go back and hear about all the women my dad _could_ have had, but he had to go and meet my mom and have me and ruin his life?”

“Hey,” Garth said, taken slightly aback. He’d recognized Neil’s inadvertent insensitivity, but it hurt a bit to see Rad take it to heart. “None of the guys think that, I promise. Don’t listen to Neil, he didn’t know what he was saying.” _Or who he was talking to._

Rad exhaled slowly. His arms remained folded, but the muscles in his shoulders relaxed. “But he’s not the only one who’s saying it.”

“What, you mean Alan and Terry?” Garth asked, growing befuddled. “They’re okay. Honestly. Alan never even knew your mother—”

_“No.”_ Rad’s arms dropped to his sides, his eyes adopting a wounded look. “When I was with my dad’s family, that’s all they ever talked about. Apparently my mom was a brainless slut who was too dumb not to get knocked up. And _her_ family’s even worse.” Rad ground his teeth and pressed his fist against his forehead, and Garth thought he’d never looked less like Wayne than in that moment.

“What’d they say?” he prompted, since he felt like he’d better keep the ball rolling.

Rad sighed, squeezing his fist. “According to them, my dad was a loser who deserved what he got, and I’m probably going to follow his footsteps.”

The sensation washing over Garth was too strong to put into words. All that emerged from the black wave in his head was a strong conviction to never let this boy out of his sight again. He didn’t care that he wasn’t prepared, or even that Wayne had instructed him to. _Anyone_ would have reached the same conclusion.

“Rad?” Rad was staring at the ground, his nostrils flared and his jaw set firmly. He looked like a ticking time bomb, but somehow Garth wasn’t afraid to reach out and lightly touch his shoulder. At the touch, Rad shuddered, but he didn’t pull away.

“Your family’s full of idiots,” Garth said.

“Yeah?” Finally Rad looked to Garth, allowing him the final verdict on the subject. Garth held back a sigh. It wasn’t Rad’s fault that his parents hadn’t been ready to bring a life into the world, or that they’d taken turns dropping the ball when it came to looking after him, or that they’d gotten swept up in the moment at the hotel that night and decided that surfing in shark-infested waters was a perfectly reasonable idea. And it definitely wasn’t Rad's fault that he was related to so many close-minded jerks.

“You’re a good kid,” Garth said. “I know we just met like, two weeks ago, but um, that's not something you can fake. And there are worse footsteps to follow than Wayne’s. I mean, if I had to pick how I’m gonna die I’m pretty sure getting eaten by sharks while surfing at midnight would at least make the top t—”

He stopped, not because he wanted to, but because Rad had suddenly rushed into him, throwing his arms around him. Garth’s first reaction was awkwardness, since he wasn’t in the habit of having kids hug him out of the blue. He’d never liked it much in general, really. But it somehow felt natural to hug Rad back.

After Rad stepped away, Garth cleared his throat to ask, “Do you wanna go back inside now? We haven’t even ordered food yet. You could get a sandwich or something…”

“Sure,” Rad said, with a look of hopefulness in his eyes, which Garth felt had to be a good sign. He realized he’d never noticed their color before, a stormy sort of gray-blue. _Just like his mother’s._

Upon reentering the bar, Garth and Rad found the table more subdued than when they’d left it. Terry was staring out the window and Alan and Neil were seemingly trying to look anywhere but at each other. When Rad slid into the booth beside Garth, Neil touched his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey Rad, I’m sorry I said what I did about your mother. I didn’t mean anything by it. She did okay, all things considering.” He shrugged.

“Thanks,” said Rad, in a tone that seemed sarcastic, but Garth couldn’t tell.

“No, I mean it. She did right by _you,_ anyway. Right, guys?” Neil looked around the table, encouraging Alan and Terry to express their assent. Garth felt like putting his arm around Rad’s shoulders, but he wasn’t sure how the kid would react.

“I’m sure she was a great mother,” Alan said gently. “And I’m sure Wayne did his best, too.”

“Not really.” Rad sucked in a breath. “I didn’t see my dad much. Not since I was… eight, probably.”

Garth braced himself, but the only response to Rad’s words was that of three heads nodding sympathetically. From these guys, he really shouldn’t have expected anything less. He and Wayne had gotten the luck of the draw when it came to parents who stayed together– not to mention they had all known Wayne Campbell.

“At least you got to know him,” Terry said wistfully, so that Garth wasn’t sure if he was thinking of Wayne or of his own father. “Even if it was only for a little bit. I mean, here we are sharing stories about Wayne, and none of us have bothered to ask if you have any.”

“Um… I don’t know.” At first Rad seemed uncomfortable, so that Garth was afraid he might want to leave again, but quickly he realized that his hesitation merely stemmed from trying to think of a story to tell. “We didn’t do much together… Mostly we went out for food or we went to a park. There was this playground in Aurora that I always liked. I think we bought a kite one time, but we never got around to flying it.”

Taking in his captive audience (which included Garth, because he couldn’t help it– this was the first time he’d ever gotten a glimpse of Wayne Campbell, the parent, as opposed to Wayne Campbell, the friend/partygoer/co-host/ _whatever_ he had been), Rad appeared to relax, settling into his seat. “There was one time he showed me how to play a record. He said it was important that I learn, so I’d be ahead of the curve. He had a bunch of my mom’s records that she forgot to take back after they broke up, but he told me not to tell her he had them. We listened to Def Leppard, Metallica, and… uh… I think it was Iron Maiden, that day. It was nice. I, uh... I always kind of wished we could do it again.”

Garth chuckled slightly, because that was Wayne all over– always interested in new technology, but never fully able to integrate. Of course, with the recent resurgence of vinyl, it appeared he’d had the last laugh. The normality of Rad’s story in comparison to the ones he, Alan, Terry, and Neil had just shared was strangely heartening. To Garth, Wayne had been a loyal best friend; to Rad, a mostly-absent father; to his family, a disappointment. The fact that these positive memories were the ones being shared after his death showed that he had chosen the right crowd. He’d always known exactly who he was, and he hadn’t succumbed to the pressure of changing. If there was anything that Wayne had taught Garth, it was to believe in himself. He now hoped he could pass the lesson onto Rad. With the way he'd handled the situation earlier, he was starting to think he might be able to. 

“He wasn’t perfect,” Rad concluded. “But who is?” He nervously lifted his glass, as if afraid that he might be crossing a line. “So, uh... here’s to my dad?”

“To Wayne,” Garth echoed immediately, raising what was left of his beer, and Alan, Neil, and Terry followed suit. The shy but proud smile on Rad’s face made Garth want to smile back.

“This kid’s alright,” Neil said once he’d downed his drink, gazing fondly at Rad.

Garth couldn’t have agreed more.

**Author's Note:**

> Although this isn't very relevant, the song of Cassandra's that plays in the cafe is inspired by [this one,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fXXTHd8nlgg) which I imagine is perhaps the reaction that all of Wayne's girlfriends have upon breaking up with him. :P
> 
> "The time the police almost shut us down for playing adult videos" is a reference to one of the Wayne's World SNL sketches, and the story about the slumber party was inspired by one of the Wayne sketches on Canadian TV (I forget which program it was). 
> 
> Anyway, I really hope this fic lived up to its predecessor and didn't completely miss the mark- thanks for reading!


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